Ignite the World Asunder
by ImmemorialMemory
Summary: The Sage of Six Paths decides to rewrite it all with the aid of the least helpful person in the elemental nations, a person more likely to burn the world than save it. In which there is time travel, Madara is done with this shit, and Tobirama is all over that. Or, the life and times of a fed-up, time-traveled Uchiha Madara.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **So AU time. What if Kaguya hadn't been defeated and at the last stroke of a second, the Sage sent someone into the past to re-write it. He could only send someone of his blood and legacy, so only Sasuke or Naruto or Hashirama or Madara. But the Sage wanted things to change further back in time, to the warring era, and everyone knows that it all begins with Madara.**

 **Aaand, this is my excuse for writing a Madara time travel, because I've never read one.**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto. It is owned by Masashi Kishimoto.

* * *

 **...**

The world burns around him.

He awakens in distress, taking a desperate, shuddering gasp of breath. In his mind he is still lying on the damp earth in defeat, the sounds of battle never-ending even as familiar brown eyes gaze at him with regret—

A dream, he wanted to say. _All a dream_ , he thinks as he lunges from his futon in blind panic, drowning in his own sweat.

Uchiha Madara dry heaves in the darkness, squeezing his prickling eyes and gritting his teeth in frustration. He grips his hair and stares at his hands— too small, too soft, too _bloodied_ …

Dream, dream, _dream_ …

He laughs in his lonesome, broken and mad.

It was no dream.

For here he was, ten years old, with the memories of a time that has yet to come. A time of war and tailed-beasts and moon goddesses and _deception_ …

"Fuck you, old man." Madara spits with malice as he trembles, hoping his would-be father from another life could hear. "I am done with this shit, you hear me? So fucking done."

The silence of the night is his answer.

* * *

 **...**

Madara does not understand why the Sage sent him back.

He had given up. Had been utterly repentant of his actions, quietly accepting the fact that he was wrong and he had lost. Weakened body, spirit crumbling, his resolve all but dust in the wind.

Madara does not know if Kaguya had been defeated. He does not know if the shinobi world had triumphed. But as he lay on the cold hard ground dying with Hashirama beside him to hear his last words, he realized he could care less about the outcome of the war he had started.

He felt at peace, finally. This was his deliverance.

He took a large breath, believing it to be his last—

Only for him to wake up in his ten-year old body in the lands of the Uchiha clan territory within a time he had long forgotten, the whispers of the Sage barely comprehensible in the echoes of his mind.

He screams in frustration at being denied the chance of seeing the pure lands.

He rages in his lonesome, immediately realizing what the Sage wants, what he wishes Madara would do. He wants _change,_ wants a _happy ending._ He wants his sons and tailed-beast children to get along together earlier, for them to defeat his goddess mother earlier, to deliver the shinobi world to peace earlier—

Madara was not having that.

He was no prophecy child. He was not the protagonist. Was not a hero.

Madara was the scourge, the nightmare. He was the evil man people warned their children about, the bane of the shinobi world, the epitome of darkness and murder and blood.

Any other sane person would stand firm in the belief that Madara was the worst person to be sent back in time, the worst person to be tasked to fix everything wrong with the world.

And he agrees wholeheartedly.

He wonders if the Sage was as clinically insane as his mother.

Madara has half a mind to take a kunai and slit his throat with it, ending the story before it ever began.

And yet when dawn breaks and the soft patter of feet approaches his room, he looks up to see his brother Izuna, whole, alive, and healthy, and the only thing Madara could think of was _redemption. Another chance._

 _"_ Nii-san?"

Another chance to do it all again.

And so as he grabs his brother for a desperate hug, tears leaking in his eyes, Madara does not think of the _why_ or _how_ , just that the chance was given to him, and he'll make it worth his while.

If only to have his brother with him again.

* * *

 **...**

Hagoromo's spirit sings in contentment. He sees his son's transcendent embrace his younger brother fiercely and he knows that everything will be alright.

He knows it is an unorthodox choice to believe in the man who committed countless atrocities as the lynchpin of change. And yet at the same time, Hagoromo knows that of all people, Madara has the least to lose and everything to gain. He will aim desperately for peace, if only because he knows what it feels like to have none of it.

And in the end, Madara was not to be blamed for everything.

His mother is. Zetsu is.

He feels pity for Indra, for his dear eldest son. His reincarnations share the same tragic fate of being manipulated and pushed into darkness by powers beyond them.

Hagoromo does not have enough power to return to his actual sons' time to mend it all, but he could grant one of his sons' reincarnation the chance to redo their actions. And despite Madara's own doubt and bitterness in himself, Hagoromo has faith that he made the right choice in the end.

And so he watches with vigilance.

* * *

 **...**

The sound of a harsh slap echoes and Izuna scuttles out of the way as his father storms out in a cold rage. He peers inside the room to see his older brother rubbing his discolored cheek, face impassive.

"Madara-nii," Izuna says in hesitation, twisting his fingers as he approached his older brother.

"Izuna." Madara greets, a smile creeping on his lips. It only highlights the bruise their father left in his cheekbones, and Izuna winces.

"Madara-nii, why are you and father fighting?" he asks, stumbling inside as he grasps his brother's sleeve. Madara catches him before he falls, settling the two of them down on the bamboo floors.

"Father and I," Madara says after a moment, stroking Izuna's coarse black hair. "We have beliefs that are at odds with each other."

Izuna blinks at that and he shoves his chin on his brother's chest, looking up at him with inquisitive eyes. "But you always agree with father."

He says that as a fact, because Madara has always been their father's favorite, their father's perfect little soldier. Even when their other brothers were still alive, Madara still received the best attention and many approving nods because he never failed to follow orders.

"Not anymore, little brother." Madara face twists into a smirk, brittle as glass. He presses his lips on Izuna's temple, a silent promise. "Not anymore."

His clan's survival and his brother's life were the only things that matter to him now.

His father's pride can go to hell.

* * *

 **...**

 **A/N:** My first purely Naruto story. Tell me what you think.

Read and review.

Memory out.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello people. New chapter for you guys. Update news at the bottom. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Masashi Kishimoto does.**

* * *

 **...**

In a time and place that no longer no exists, Madara had planned to execute the most brilliant revolution the world could have ever seen.

Only to be thwarted by a blonde dumbass and his pet fox.

And half a million ninja, he supposes.

It sinks in Madara's brain that if the entirety of the shinobi world willingly banded together to tell him he was wrong, then well…

He might be wrong.

Madara is much more clear-headed now. Without Kaguya's manipulations and Zetsu's poison, he could see how he became a puppet on strings, dancing to their sinister tune. He had been too ruthless, too extreme, and he realizes that in the end of his life he had been no better than his wretched father, using his own flesh and blood to further his goals.

And a genjutsu on the moon. Really?

Revenge on his own clan? Well wasn't that just sad and pathetic.

The destruction of Konoha… Petty. So very petty.

Ugh, he sounds like a fucking child throwing the biggest, super-powered tantrum in the world. No finesse in his actions, none at all. He was evil sure, but the crazy in him just made him so predictable.

And while he still believes that the stinking Sage chose the wrong person to send back in time, Madara was not stupid enough to waste this opportunity to make things go his way this time around.

It was just so very convenient that Hagoromo flung him back in time with all of his power.

And by all of it, he means _all_ of it.

Madara smirks sinisterly.

His chakra stores, his repertoire of jutsu copied by his Sharingan, his mastery over Yin-Yang release, his talent over weapons, even his body's natural fighting instincts. His youthful body possesses them all.

And most importantly, he has the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan.

He is unsure how he has it, as it would mean that he has taken Izuna's eyes and implanted it on his own sockets. But Izuna is alive and unharmed and had just awakened his Sharigan last week, so for Madara to have the Eternal Mangekyou must mean that he has taken it along with him upon travelling through time.

Gazing at the familiar red and black pattern of his eyes by the riverside, Madara distantly notes that he does not have his Rinnegan. He does not have Hashirama's cells to bolster its activation for now, nor does he wish to have it. He might gain them again in the distant future, but that was a fleeting thought, an idea for when things become worse.

Madara shrugs, picking up a smooth stone to skip it over the riverbed. He flings it with casual grace.

The stone falters and sinks in the middle of the water, making his jaw tick in annoyance.

Ugh. God-like shinobi powers or not, he still fails at fucking _rock skipping_. How is that fair—

A flat pebble sails past him and into the river's surface, making neat little skips over the water and landing on the other side.

Madara turns to the intruder he has been expecting.

"Just aim it a little higher than you'd expect." A pleasant voice says. Stupid bowl cut hair, impish smile, a friendly wink. He sees it all again. "That's the trick."

"I don't need you to tell me that." Madara scoffs, facing his best friend… his most bitter enemy… his little brother from another life… "Stupid idiot."

 _Hashirama._

* * *

 **…**

Madara has absolutely forgotten how fucking savage Hashirama was with his words as a child. The Senju was a wimp at this age, still easily cowed, but his backhanded comments gave Madara the unpleasant remembrance that beneath his veneer of sunny pleasantness, Hashirama had been a rude little shit.

"Ahahaha… I'm sorry for interrupting your attempts at rock skipping. I'd let you throw _me_ over the water, but I'm not sure if I'd even make it halfway through…"

"Why you…" Madara grinds his teeth in annoyance, barking out his frustration. "Shut up! Get lost! You're an eyesore!"

He could burn this pest to death…

But no, he needs the idiot for Konoha, unfortunately.

Hashirama suddenly curls into a ball of depression, sniffling and wailing. "Sorry! I'm so sorry! You're right, I'm the worst!"

Oh. Right. He also forgot Hashirama's weird, neurotic tendency of turning into a pit of despair at a drop of a hat.

Madara stares at the sniveling Senju, deadpan, then sighs and laughs softly, unexpectedly.

He missed this…

This camaraderie he had with his best friend. When had he last had a civil conversation with Hashirama before he had been flung back through time? He couldn't remember…

"My name's Madara." He offers, reaching out a hand at him. "No last name."

Hashirama blinks, surprised, then smiles and takes his outstretched arm. "Un. I am Hashirama."

Their meeting by the riverside was beginning of a life-long friendship. The second time around.

* * *

 **…**

Kawarama tries to stifle his sobs as he trembles in the dark, squeezing his bleeding thigh with his hands. He had wandered away from his family and panicked, running around in frightened circles to find his father and brothers. But then a shinobi trap caught him and he crawled inside a rotten trunk to hide, but now he was stuck in a crossfire and he going to _die die die—_

The sounds of battle and screaming shinobi reverberates around him and Kawarama shuts his eyes as he shudders, unable to block the violent noises from ringing in his ears because the wound on his leg was _painful_ and he has to use his hands to stop it from bleeding like Tobi-nii always says—

Moonlight glints above him.

Kawarama's heart freezes as his hiding place was ripped away from him, the scarred face of a blood-spattered shinobi leering at him with vicious triumph. A katana rises with the intent to kill and Kawarama screams out a sob because he wants his brothers and he wants to be safe and he doesn't want to _die—_

Suddenly, the man freezes in shock and coughs out blood. Kawarama watches with stunned terror as the man falls to the ground in a dead heap, a flurry of shuriken embedded on his back. Kawarama looks up to see his savior, only for a rush of ice cold fear to crawl up his spine at the sight of blood-red orbs and spinning tomoe.

Uchiha…

 _"_ _The Uchiha are our greatest enemy. They have slaughtered hundreds of our members and we fight with our lives to eradicate every single one of them."_

Kawarama recoils and hopes to the gods that the Uchiha do not recognize him as a Senju. He desperately hopes that they leave him alone. He does not want to fight his father's war! He doesn't understand what his father means by duty and sacrifice! He was scared and alone and now the enemy has him—

"Senju." The Uchiha says flatly, and Kawarama darts wild eyes at him.

Kami, they recognize him—

"Hn." Red orbs narrow and the Uchiha backs away from him elegantly. "Rikuo. Minoru."

Two shinobi appear beside him and Kawarama flinches at their red stare. More Uchiha…

"Protect the boy. I need to return to the battlefield." The first Uchiha says, and it was only then did Kawarama notice that he was young, as young as Hashi-nii, with wild black hair and a piercing gaze…

"Hai, Madara-sama." The two Uchiha bow and take vigil next to Kawarama, weapons at the ready.

"Hn…" Madara glances at the terrified boy, imparting a mocking smile at him before leaving. "Don't die, little Senju."

 _For you just may be the key to the future…_

* * *

 **…**

Madara rounds up the last of the enemy shinobi, watching with grim satisfaction as the Uchiha tie up the living as prisoners. He had instructed both his clansmen and the Hagoromo clan to avoid killing as much as they could to preserve the reputation of the Uchiha in the future. It would not do well to have a name in violent warmongering.

"Madara-sama. Our clan shall now be departing." The Hagoromo's right-hand man says, bowing shallowly. "We are grateful for the Uchiha's assistance and shall impart your significant contribution to your father."

"Hn." Madara nodded, sealing his gunbai.

The man straightens and observes the young heir briefly. They had been skeptical when the Uchiha included their clan head's son in this battle as he was only a few days shy of his eleventh birthday. But Uchiha Tajima's son turned out to be terrifying in battle, a prodigious monster in the making.

He was one to watch.

Madara turns his back on the departing shinobi. Distantly, he remembers the fate of the Hagoromo clan. They were their allies in the warring era but never lived to see Konoha created. He idly wonders if he should do something about that, then shook his head.

Best let fate run its course. He was not out to create changes anyway.

He could hardly care less about the rest of the world so as long as what is his is safe.

Madara marches towards the tree trunk where he found the little Senju in a stroke of luck, nodding to Rikuo and Minoru in acknowledgment as they let him pass.

They were men under his banner. They would not betray him to his father, of that he was sure.

With that in mind, he walks towards their hidden captive.

"Senju Kawarama," Madara drawls in greeting, smirking at the way the blood leaves the boy's face.

It was easy to deduce his identity. Kawarama resembles Hashirama in face and features, without the bowl cut at least. And from his vague memories of his other life, he remembers that Hashirama's youngest brother died in a skirmish against the Uchiha and Hagoromo clans. Madara had assumed that he died at the hands of the Uchiha, but apparently Kawarama had just been in the wrong place and time, stumbling into the Uchiha and Hagoromo shinobi as they battled against another clan.

And of course, the Uchiha wouldn't waste such an opportunity. The Senju clan head's son accidentally wandering into their hands would be such an unexpected surprise.

They wouldn't hesitate to kill the boy.

How fortuitous that Madara chose to join this particular battle this time around…

Madara kneels beside the boy and raises a brow as Kawarama struggles futilely, a despairing look on his face. "Calm, baby Senju. If I wanted to kill you, I would've done so earlier."

Kawarama gapes at the wild-haired Uchiha, breath hitching when the older boy places a palm on the wound on his thigh. Chakra starts pouring out in soothing waves as the cut heals.

"Your brother might kill me if I left you to die." Madara says with a flick of his spiky hair, and Kawarama darts an astonished look at him. Black eyes look back at him steadily. "Tell Hashirama that he owes me one."

"Hashi... nii-san?"

"Hn..." Madara ignores him and straightens up haughtily, pouring out the last of his healing chakra into the boy. "Put some weight on your healed leg, baby Senju."

Too terrified to lash out at the Uchiha's taunting words, Kawarama eases his injured leg. He startles in surprise when he feels no pain, no discomfort.

The Uchiha healed his wound completely.

Even Hashi-nii couldn't do that...

"We still have time before nightfall to deliver you to your clan." Madara says, turning his eyes to the horizon. "It would be best to escort you, at least within a distance where you won't get mauled or attacked." He turns to his two silent clansmen. "Rikou, Minoru. Take the side formation."

"Hai, Madara-sama."

Madara turns to the stunned Kawarama. "Well? Are you coming?"

Kawarama nods warily. He has no choice.

The wild-haired Uchiha smirks, feral and deadly elegant. "Do keep up, baby Senju. Wouldn't want to waste my entire effort in saving your life."

Kawarama stares at his clan's most bitter enemies in a stunned haze, unable to wrap his mind at the idea of them saving him even as they bring him to the very edge of the border of his clan lands. He watches as the young Uchiha— _Madara_ , his mind supplies— instruct his clansmen with quiet confidence as they enter Senju territory. He seems to be the leader, and Kawarama realizes with a jolt that he really did prevent the others from killing him… he shielded him... saved him… healed his wounds even.

Kawarama bites his lip and tries to voice out a word of gratitude-

Madara's eyes bleed back into the red of the Sharingan as they leap through the trees. "There's someone waiting at the border. It's familiar—ah… I see."

Kawarama's breath hitches at the sight of white hair against the darkness. The lone figure standing on the clearing was his brother Tobirama, bare-handed and shoulders tense. Kawarama shivers as he remembers that his brother was a sensor, that he could probably sense Kawarama's chakra along with the Uchiha escorting him a mile away.

"Tobi-nii!" He blurts out in panic and Madara growls in irritation behind him.

Tobirama's eyes sharpen and he reaches for a kunai the moment he sees his brother in the arms of their clan's deadliest enemy. He had rushed to the borders of their lands by himself the moment he felt Kawarama's chakra, a cold fear gripping his throat when he realized that his youngest brother wasn't alone.

Three Uchiha shinobi were caging his brother, two grown and one younger. Tobirama mentally calculates the probability of them getting out of this alive and curses—he had not called for help from his clan, too terrified of finding Kawarama dead if he was a second too late, but now they were alone and outmatched—

Kawarama flies into his arms with a muffled sob and Tobirama automatically reaches out for him, concealing his younger brother behind his back as he prepares for a fight against the Uchiha, half-confused as to why his brother was easily released—

"Tobi-nii." Kawarama vies for his attention, tugging the edged fur of his collar insistently. "Tobi-nii _no._ They brought me back. They helped me and brought me back home."

The white-haired Senju stills and darts hostile, disbelieving eyes at the unmoving shinobi. The younger Uchiha in the middle rises a brow at him and scoffs, turning his back to meld back into the shadows—

"Thank you!" Kawarama blurts out, making the young Uchiha pause. Sable eyes turn back to them. Kawarama shies back and grips Tobirama's shoulder painfully as he whispers, "Th-thank you. I—I would've died…"

Tobirama flinches at the thought but does not wrench his glare from the Uchiha standing in the middle.

Madara tilts his head at the Senju brothers, a little amused at how small they were. Tobirama has yet to look away from him, gripping his kunai with the ferocity of a bristling cat. Madara meets the challenge in his eyes with an apathetic look, slightly surprised at the fact that every antagonistic feeling he held for the prejudiced white-haired Senju before seemed to have vanished overnight.

No anger against Tobirama's bigoted attitude. No rage for the injustices he inflicted in his past life. No blind fury at the discrimination he derided the Uchiha with.

He feels none of it.

Because everything was different. Madara made sure it was.

Saving Kawarama would make Hashirama feel indebted to him. Madara might as well have earned his full loyalty after letting his brother live.

And now he was gaining the trust of his clan, wrenching them away from his father and elders' toxic ideals. They were _not_ falling for the Curse of Hatred and they were _not_ going to be driven away by the Senju. Madara will make sure of this.

And so as he stares at Tobirama's wine red eyes, he realizes that there was no purpose in holding a grudge against the man who isolated his clan from the village, who held him with great suspicion and distrust, who branded the surname Uchiha with the word 'traitor'.

Simply because the man does not exist. Not anymore.

Madara changed fate this very night, and would continue to do so for as long as he lived.

And so he turns away.

He breathes in…

And lets go.

* * *

 **A/N:** Ending it here. Whew. Chapter done, finally. What do you think? Tell me in your reviews, okay?

So. Updates. Towards will be by November, and Light of the Leaves is end of this month. I've got two more stories lined up though, so that's something I look forward to posting. Thanks for all the support. *smiles*

 **Read and review.**

 **Memory out.**


End file.
